Some folks have a flair for building a lovely bridge to transport her across those final, quiet days of November from
the Joys of Thanksgiving to the Festivities of Christmas.
At the late November side of the bridge, the earth has settled into quiet mode.
Nests bereft of babies serve as frost receptacles
Unclad trees are unashamed to reveal alluring views of the heavens
The sun tucks itself behind the hills
with a cheery farewell
and somersaults its way to pop up past the opposite hills the next morning.
All is safely gathered in...
...as the December opening show comes into sight.
Add Breakfast on the Farm for the final few feet
And The Fortified Prude, with December waiting at the other end of the bridge, can say
'Hey! That bridge wasn't so bad after all!'